MA'I (In Sickness and in Health)
by Lohi
Summary: When Danny gets sick, Steve takes it upon himself to help his best friend, but as the saying goes; Misery loves company.
1. On Time

**Author's Note #1: Hi guys and welcome to my first multi-chapter fanfiction. I'm just about to leave for Palm Springs, but I thought I'll upload the first chapter today in case I don't get to do it tomorrow. I might be busy hanging out at the pool and getting a tan *grin*. This story contains four chapters which are all fully written already and are just waiting to be uploaded, which I'm planning on doing twice a week. Reviews are, of course, highly appreciated.**

**Author's Note #2: My story takes place in the present, so there are some spoilers for episodes that have already aired (5.16 for example).**

**Author's Note #3: A big 'Thank You' goes to my two amazing betas Traw and ReluctantSlashFan for helping me with spelling and grammar mistakes my English-not-as-first-language-having-self has created.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Hawaii Five-0**_** or any characters in this story. No copyright infringement intended.**

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**MA'I (In Sickness and in Health) - Chapter 1**

Danny stifles a yawn when he enters his kitchen early on Tuesday morning. He puts his gun and phone down on the black kitchen isle in the middle of the room and turns around to plug in the coffee machine. Steve always mocks the old device and advices him to buy a newer model. Or at least to get one that does not sound like someone is working with a jackhammer. But Danny is fond of his _classic model_, how he likes to call it. It works well and makes good coffee; that is all that matters.

Okay – maybe he just keeps it because he knows it drives his partner crazy.

Danny opens the kitchen cabinet right above the machine and grabs a bag with coffee beans. The smell hits his nose and he sighs in pleasure. There are a lot of things he misses about New Jersey but coffee is not one of them. Kona Coffee is incompatible with anything he has ever tried back on the mainland.

The blond detective opens the lid of the coffee machine and pours the dark brown beans inside. He checks the decanter before starting the machine. Smirking at the loud screeching noise that erupts as it grinds the beans, he turns and heads for the refrigerator. He can practically hear Steve huff out a breath of annoyance.

"Aw, great," Danny mutters when he grabs the milk carton and realizes that just a few more drops are left. He has told Grace a thousand times that she needs to write it down when she uses something up.

"_But there's still some left, Danno,"_ he hears his daughter say in his head and rolls his eyes. He puts the carton on the counter and lets his gaze roam over the other contents of his fridge.

A smile tugs his lips upward when he pulls out a Tupperware with pineapple chunks in it. Some people might still be thinking he loathes the fruit but the truth is; he never voiced a general dislike towards pineapples. The only thing that makes him cringe is the thought of pineapple on pizza. And that is something that will never change. Period.

Danny opens the plastic top and pops one of the juicy pieces into his mouth. They taste fantastic and he quickly eats another yellow cube. He needs to remember to thank his neighbor for giving them to him.

A honking sound from outside makes him turn around. He looks through the window and sees his partner's blue Silverado pull up in his driveway. Sighing, Danny puts the lid back on and places the container back in the refrigerator. He rolls his eyes at Steve who impatiently points to his wristwatch from inside the truck.

Danny huffs out a breath while pouring the now steaming coffee into a travel mug. He would not need his partner to pick him up if _someone_ had not gotten the Camaro's tires and hood riddled with bullets. Again.

"I'm coming! Sheesh…" Danny mutters when Steve honks again. He quickly holsters his gun and shoves his phone in the left pocket of his pants. He grabs the coffee mug and heads outside, locking the door behind his back in the process.

"You know we're running late, right?" Steve states the second Danny opens the door on the passenger site. He has barely enough time to climb into the Silverado and close the door before the SEAL puts it into gear again.

"Would you relax?" Danny sets his hot coffee in the cup holder and buckles himself in. "It's not even 7:30. The meeting with Denning isn't until 8 and traffic won't be that bad."

Running a hand through his hair, Danny once again reaches for his mug. He really needs his daily dose of caffeine, otherwise he will not survive a day packed with two meetings, a ton of paperwork, and an already annoyingly stressed out partner.

Suddenly, Steve hits the steering wheel with his fist. "Damn, we need to make a quick stop at Leonard's Bakery. It's my turn to bring breakfast," he says and takes a sharp right turn at the next intersection, causing his partner to slide around on his seat. Steve had been thinking about bringing the food yesterday before he went to bed but somehow it had slipped his mind in the morning.

Danny shoots him a look and glances at the time display on the Silverado's dashboard. "Just so you know; I was perfectly on time this morning. If we are going to be too late it will be on you, my friend."

"Yeah, yeah…" Steve mutters and swiftly overtakes the van driving too slow in front of them. It would not be the first time they appear too late to a meeting with the governor. Steve winces at the memory of the telling-off Denning had given them last time. He really does not want a repeat of this ordeal.

When they pull into the parking lot of the famous bakery, Steve practically lunges out of the car. He spins around before slamming the door shut. "You want anything?"

"Wow, how attentive of you to ask." Danny smirks mockingly.

Steve sighs impatiently. "You want something or not?"

"Bring me one of those chicken sandwiches with the housemade sauce."

Steve makes a face and shakes his head in disgust. "Are you serious? It's morning. Normal people eat a croissant or cereal and not a chicken sandwich loaded with mayonnaise and pickles."

Danny throws his hands up. "You asked me if I wanted something, didn't you?"

Closing his eyes briefly in defeat, Steve softly mutters, "I don't have time for this." And shuts the door. He sprints across the parking lot and hopes he will not need to wait in line for too long.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Twenty minutes later, at 8:02, Steve and Danny burst through the doors at headquarters. Chin, Kono and Lou jerk their heads up and glance at their two team mates with furrowed brows.

Chin is the first one to see the panic in their eyes and breaks out in a grin. "Don't worry. He's not here yet."

"Thank god." Steve blows out a breath of relief and the tension leaves his body. He walks over to his team and drops the carton with the deliciously smelling pastry on the smart table. "Dig in."

Kono immediately opens the lid and reaches for one of the sugary malasadas filled with vanilla cream.

"I guess you were lucky again." Danny smirks and swallows the last bite of his chicken sandwich. He knew his partner would bring him one despite not approving of his nutrition.

Everyone turns around to face the door when it opens again. Governor Denning, wearing a dark blue suit with a white dress shirt underneath, enters and strides purposefully toward the members of his task force.

"Good morning everyone," he greets them with a nod. Kono quickly chokes down the remaining piece of her malasada.

"Good morning, sir. We've been waiting for you," Steve says politely and indicates for the tall man to take a seat at the table behind them. Thankfully, either Chin, Kono or Lou has already put out some small bottles of water and napkins.

"We've been waiting for you?" Danny mutters quietly when he bypasses his partner and snorts. "Yeah, _right_."

Steve holds out his hands and replies in a hushed tone, "He doesn't have to know the truth."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The rest of the morning goes by rather fast. They debrief their latest case with Governor Denning and discuss their budget, which is, thanks to one of Steve's stunts resolving in an explosion, already shrinking rapidly.

After the meeting, everyone retreats into his or her respective office and begins to work off the huge pile of paperwork. Again, thanks to Steve's exploit.

Lunchtime rolls around and they decide to head out to Kamekona's truck for the best shrimp on the island. At least if you overlook the fact that Morimoto had spiked Kamekona's opponent's food with incredibly spicy sauce back at the cookout a few weeks back.

Steve shuts down his computer and locks the files away in the top drawer of his desk. Stretching out the kinks in his arms and neck, he looks up and sees Danny still working behind his desk. He gets up and crosses the office.

"Hey, we're going to Kamekona's. You coming?" He asks, frowning at the uncharacteristically slouched form of his partner.

Danny looks up when he hears his partner's voice and blinks. "I'll take a rain check," he mutters and rubs his forehead. He had started to feel off about an hour ago and as time passed it has only gotten worse.

Steve, of course, does not miss his friend's obvious discomfort. "What's wrong?" He asks and walks fully into the room, taking a closer look at Danny's pale face.

"Don't feel too good. I might be coming down with something…" He shrugs and swallows back a wave of nausea. He briefly closes his eyes and drops his aching head in his hands when the room around him starts to spin.

Steve glances worriedly at his partner. "Did you take anything? Tylenol or Advil?"

The shake of Danny's head is barely noticeable but it does not pass Steve's sharp eyes. "Listen, how about you take the rest of the day off, huh? I'll drive you home," the former SEAL offers and bends down over the table to be on eyelevel with his partner.

"Yeah…" Danny mumbles into his hands. He does not trust himself to open his mouth any further because his stomach is constantly churning and threatening to expel its contents.

Slowly straightening up a bit, the blond detective closes his laptop and turns off the lamp on his desk. He gathers his belongings and pushes himself upright. An unforeseen dizzy spell throws him off balance for a second and before he can get his bearings back, a strong hand takes hold of his biceps.

"You alright?" Steve asks, brows furrowed in concern. Again, Danny just nods. Carefully, the former SEAL lets go of his friend and to his relief the shorter man does not stagger or sway.

"Is everything okay?" Kono asks with raised eyebrows as she pokes her head into Danny's office. Chin, Lou, and she had been watching their two team mates but got worried when they saw their friend stumble.

"Danny's not feeling good. I'll take him home and meet you guys at Kamekona's," Steve explains while letting his left hand hover over the small of his partner's back.

Kono looks compassionately at her blond team mate. "It's flu season again, brah. Get better soon," she says with a soft smile and gently squeezes his shoulder as he bypasses her.

"Thanks," Danny mumbles but keeps his gaze locked on the floor in front of him. He feels like he has just ridden the world's fastest and bumpiest rollercoaster. He weakly smiles at Chin and Lou and says his goodbye with a weak wave of his hand.

Once outside, Steve unlocks his truck and watches Danny climb in. "You good?" He asks, noticing the beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Yeah, yeah… Just – take it easy with the curves." He manages a faint smile and buckles himself in.

"Copy that," Steve chuckles and gets in as well. He throws his friend one last look before he starts the Silverado and pulls into traffic.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Ten minutes into the drive, Danny suddenly jerks up. He gasps and leans forward, hands on his middle.

"Stop the car!" He orders and presses his lips into a thin line. He tries to suck in deep and even breaths to suppress the roiling in his stomach but it is to no avail.

Steve whips his head around and his eyes widen when he notices his friend's convulsive swallowing. "Not in the car!" He warns and rips the steering wheel to the right. Thankfully, they are driving on a rather untraveled road and the abrupt move does not resolve in an accident.

The blue Silverado has barely stopped on the sandy ground next to the road when Danny pushes the door open and springs out. He stumbles a few feet to the closest tree line and doubles over. Reaching out for a tree trunk to his left, the blond detective holds himself upright while he throws up his breakfast and what feels like lunch and dinner from yesterday.

A few seconds later, he feels a warm hand on his back. Steve rubs soothingly up and down between his shoulder blades while he expels every morsel he has in his stomach.

Once the dry heaving subsides, Danny wipes over his mouth with the back of his hand. He closes his eyes and hangs his pounding head, trying to bring his breathing back to a normal pace.

When he opens his eyes again, a bottle of water has appeared in his line of sight. He straightens up a bit and reaches for it with a shaky hand.

"Thanks," he mutters hoarsely and unscrews the lid. He takes a sip, rinses out the foul taste in his mouth, and spits it onto the ground. It feels heavenly.

Steve, whose hand is still on his friend's back, speaks softly, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah…" Danny mutters and sighs. "That chicken sandwich wasn't half as good the second time as it was the first."

Steve snorts and shakes his head. He pats his partner on the shoulder and nudges him back towards the car. "Let's go. I think a little rest would be good for you."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Luckily, the rest of the trip passes without any more incidents. Danny just closes his eyes and concentrates on thinking about everything else beside the nausea, headache, or sweat, which makes his light blue dress shirt stick to his torso. Even though Steve has turned on the air conditioner to the point where he himself is almost shivering, Danny still feels too warm.

"We're here, Danny." Steve says once he parked in his friend's driveway.

Danny slowly blinks his eyes open and squints against the bright sunlight which reflects off the car's hood. He fumbles for the door handle and pushes it open with a huff.

"Come on, buddy," Steve, who already rounded the car, coaxes and grabs his arm. "You good?"

"I'm gonna puke again," Danny whines and swallows thickly against the bile in the back of his throat.

"We're almost there. Just hang on," the former SEAL encourages. As much as he loves Danny, he really does _not _want to scrub off vomit from the driveway.

Steve leads his partner up to the front door and takes the house key which Danny had managed to pull out from his pants. He quickly unlocks the door and pushes it open. The cold air from inside the house makes Danny sigh in pleasure.

"You go straight to bed," Steve commands and points across the living room to the direction of Danny's bedroom. "I'll get you some water and something to settle your stomach."

Danny nods weakly. "Thanks. There should be some Pepto-Bismol in the kitchen cabinet."

"Got it," Steve says and smiles. He walks straight into the kitchen and grabs a clean glass. He fills it with fresh and cool water and sets it on the counter. Looking around, he opens the first kitchen cabinet, smirking in victory when he finds the box with band aids, medication, and pain relievers in his first attempt.

He rummages through the contents until he spots the bright pink bottle. Squinting to read the date on the bottle, he nods in approval and sets it next to the water. He quickly stows away the box again and takes a table spoon from the drawer.

Trying to balance everything at the same time, Steve makes his way towards Danny's bedroom. He stops when he hears the toilet flush, shortly before the tap is turned on.

"You okay in there?" He shouts through the closed door and steps back when it is unlocked and a wobbly Danny walks out. Steve studies the pale and sweaty complexion sympathetically. "You alright?" He repeats and holds out the water for his friend.

Danny cautiously takes a sip. "This stomach bug isn't pretty…" he mutters and shuffles past Steve to his bedroom.

"I can imagine."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Once Danny is wearing different cloths and is settled cozily in his bed, he tries to convince his partner that he is okay to be on his own, "I don't need you to stick around, babe. I'll be fine," he says and blinks against the heaviness of his eyelids.

Steve narrows his hazel eyes, thinking about it. He does not feel comfortable with leaving Danny alone but on the other hand, the pile of paperwork on his desk will not write itself. He bits his lower lip and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"Seriously, this isn't the first time I've been sick. I can take care of myself just fine," Danny speaks up again when he notices his friend hesitate.

Eventually, Steve sighs and scratches his forehead with the thumb on his left hand. His other hand remains on is hip. "Alright," he agrees, "but let me get you a bucket in case you… you know."

Danny cannot quite suppress the grin that tugs at the corners of his lips when he sees Steve's slightly sheepish expression. He watches his friend leave the bedroom and carefully rolls onto his left side. Lying down definitely makes him feel better but the nausea is still prominent.

Meanwhile, Steve opens the large built-in closet in the hallway where he knows his partner stores all his cleaning equipment. His gaze roams over the mess of brooms, mops, and detergents until he sees a bright blue bucket buried under a pile of rags.

With a heavy sigh, the former SEAL kneels down to wrestle the bucket free; successfully ducking away from a broom that threatens to hit him square in the face in the process. Piece of cake.

When he enters his partner's bedroom again, his smile fades. In the meager ninety seconds it took Steve to grab a bucket, Danny had managed to get himself tangled up in the blankets, drop half the pillows on the floor, and knock over the alarm clock on his bedside table. But that is not the part that worries Steve.

Danny is curled on his side with a pained expression on his face. Some low moans escape his lips.

"Hey, Danny." Steve steps closer to the bed and reaches out to touch his shoulder. He does not like the warmth he is feeling under the palm of his hand.

"G-God, I already hate this," Danny mumbles into the pillow. He had been just on the edge of falling asleep when his stomach started to cramp and make weird noises.

Steve gently untangles the sheets from Danny's legs and sets the bucket down. "Did you take the Pepto-Bismol?"

Danny nods with his blue eyes closed. "Didn't help."

The former SEAL starts to worry. He knows it is flu season and everything Danny is experiencing are common symptoms. Nevertheless, it could be something else. Appendix, ulcer, gallstones – The list goes on.

"Listen, I'm gonna call Chin. I don't wanna leave you alone right now."

Danny opens one eye and squints up at his partner who towers over him. It is obvious that the tall SEAL does not leave room for any kind of protest. That does not mean Danny will not try, regardless. "Come on. It's just the flu-"

The rest of his sentence gets cut off when bile shoots up in the back of his throat. He has just enough time to turn around and scramble to the edge of the bed before he begins to throw up again. Fortunately, Steve had placed the bucket right there a few minutes ago.

"You just proved me right, Danno," Steve speaks with a sigh as he rubs his partner's heaving back anew.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The call to his team is made in a matter of mere minutes. They all agree that Danny did not look good and probably needs some time to just rest and relax. They also understand Steve's concern and back him up in his decision to keep an eye on his partner for the next few hours. However, they promise to call if something important comes up.

Stowing his phone away in his pocket, Steve sneaks back into Danny's bedroom. He pokes his head in and is relieved to see his friend softly snoring and asleep – Exactly what he needs right now.

Steve pulls the door closed but leaves it slightly ajar before tiptoeing back into the living room. He plops down on the couch and picks up the remote to flip through the channels, eventually settling for an old episode of Colombo.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Danny wakes up a few hours later. He blinks his eyes open and gazes around in his room. Squinting, he tries to recall how he ended up at home after he clearly went to work this morning.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he sees the blue bucket and the pink pill bottle beside his bed. With a groan, his memory comes rushing back and he flops back into the soft pillow. With this realization, he haltingly takes stock of his body: He feels better than before, if only marginally. He still has a dull throbbing behind his eyes and his stomach feels queasy, but he does not feel like he will throw up again. At least not in the next five minutes.

A loud clattering sound makes him flinch and he remembers his partner. His apparently still present partner.

Struggling out of the sweat covered blankets, he sits up. Danny squeezes his eyes shut when his headache spikes up a notch and the room spins for a moment. _"Great."_

When the dizziness abates, he slowly stands up and shuffles into the hallway. The sun has already begun to set and bathes everything in a bright orange-golden light.

He follows the clattering and clanking noises which lead him straight into his kitchen. Smirking, he leans against the doorframe when he lays eyes on his friend who is currently picking up tiny pieces of what looks like a broken bowl or plate.

"What are you doing?"

Steve's head shoots up, startled when he hears Danny speak up behind him. Cursing under his breath when he cuts his finger on a sharp splinter, he raises to his feet and turns around.

"I didn't hear you," the tall SEAL says and reaches for a white paper towel to wrap around his bleeding finger. "How are you feeling?" He looks up from his task and studies Danny. He still looks pale and slightly flushed. His disheveled hair does not help his overall appearance at all.

"Okay right now." Stepping fully into the kitchen, he blond detective leans against the kitchen isle and nods to the shards on the floor. "Why are you shattering my dishes?"

Steve raises his eyebrows and huffs out a breath. "Me? You set your kitchen up as a death trap! Do I really need to explain to you the concept of putting smaller bowls **into** larger ones, not the other way around? This is not Jenga." To clarify his point, the former SEAL points to a kitchen cabinet with large bowls and platters which are stacked up into an artful sculpture. He realizes that he sounds a bit like Danny but after getting almost knocked in the head by a glass salad bowl, he has earned himself the right to rant a little.

Danny winces. _"Guess that's another ticking-off for Grace." _First the milk and now the bowls...

"You up for some food?" Steve asks over his shoulder, voice calm once again, when he moves to the stove to stir the contents of the pan. "I made chicken noddle soup."

Danny tosses his partner a band aid, which he pulled from a jar he keeps close for exactly that kind of things, and eyes the food skeptically. He does feel better right now but a reappearance of chicken chunks and diced vegetables in the near future is not really a pretty picture to imagine.

"Come on, Danny. At least try to eat something," Steve encourages him as he fills a small bowl. He reaches for a spoon and shoves it into Danny's hands. "It'll be good for you."

Eventually, Danny sighs and shuffles back into the living room. Steve takes this as a victory and quickly fills a bowl for himself before he follows his partner.

Swirling his spoon around in the clear liquid, Danny mutters, "I hope I won't regret that."

**To be continued...**


	2. Soup For The Sick

**Author's Note #1: I'm back with chapter 2! I just came home from my trip and I have to say; Palm Springs is beautiful! One of my favorite places in the United States. I was relaxing at the pool while looking at the behind the scenes pictures from 5.25. Wow, I can't believe they're already wrapping up season 5. Time went by so fast!**

**Author's Note #2: Thank you everyone who took the time to write a review. I really, really appreciate every single one of them.**

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**MA'I (In Sickness and in Health) - Chapter 2**

The loud beeping of his phone wakes Steve with a start. It takes him exactly one and a half seconds to remember why he is not in his own bedroom, but in his partner's guestroom. Sighing, he reaches for the ringing and vibrating phone next to him and turns off the annoying alarm. He blinks at the too bright display; 7am. Groaning, he throws an arm over his eyes.

The night had not been an easy one. Albeit Danny had said he was feeling better before dinner, things quickly changed after he had managed to eat about half the bowl of soup. Struggling to his feet, he had dashed to the small bathroom down the hall. He had slammed the door shut and Steve was helplessly forced to listen to his friend expelling his homemade dinner. Later, even Danny's daily phone call with Grace had needed to be cut short because he was feeling so poorly.

The rest of the night had not been much different. Danny's fever had risen a little bit, and Steve sent him to bed once again. He spent the whole night emptying the bucket next to Danny's bed, forcing liquid into his partner, and helping him to the bathroom and back.

At around five in the morning, Danny had finally managed to keep some of the water down and fall into a restless sleep. Steve stuck around in his bedroom for a while, just to make sure he was resting peacefully and would not be experiencing a repeat of what they had just gone through.

Eventually, Steve dragged his own tired body into the guestroom where he immediately fell asleep, fully dressed. Unfortunately, his blissful slumber only lasted about two short hours.

Sitting up, Steve scrubs both hands down his face in an attempt to rub away the remaining drowsiness. He strains his ears and listens for a sound, pleased when the house still lingers in silence. _"Looks like Danny's still sleeping."_

With a yawn, he grabs his phone from the nightstand and gets to his feet. He checks his cell for messages or missed calls from his team but does not have any.

The former SEAL swiftly tidies up the bed and checks on his still sleeping partner before he walks to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. Throwing a disparaging glance at the old coffee machine, he rolls his eyes and turns it on. He could not care less about the antique rattling thing right now; all he wants is a large cup of coffee!

While he waits for the abnormally loud machine to pour some caffeinated liquid into a cup, he opens the refrigerator. Letting his eyes wander over yogurt, eggs, cheese, two six-packs of beer, and some other foods, he decides to go for something healthy. After all, he sure can use the vitamins since he spends so much time with his sick partner.

Steve slices up a banana and some grapes and adds a cup of pineapple chunks he found, not quite able to hide the smirk which tugs at the corners of his lips. He throws everything into a bowl and waits for the coffee to be ready.

Five minutes later, Steve sits in one of the two beige chairs in Danny's backyard, sipping from his cup. He even added a spoon of butter to his coffee to boost his currently still sluggish brain function. Holding his phone in the other hand, he hits the speed dial for Chin.

"_Kelly."_

"Hey Chin, it's me."

"_Good morning, brah. How's Danny doing?"_ Steve hears the honking of cars in the background.

"He had a rough night," Steve admits and runs a hand down his face. "But he's sleeping now. How are things back at HQ?"

"_We got a call from Hawai'i Police Department yesterday. During construction work, some workers found parts of a human skeleton near Hilo."_

"Are they transporting the remains to Oahu?"

"_That's the thing,"_ Chin starts with a heavy sigh. _"We don't know. Barely one hour after the first call from the police, they contacted us again, telling us that the Navy took over the case and investigation. We got the report about the finding but most of it has been blacked out. We could really use your level of clearance."_

"Okay," Steve says and glances through the open patio door into the still quiet interior of the house. "Listen, I'll hang around 'til Danny wakes up to see how he's doing. I'll swing by my place to grab a quick shower and a change of clothes and then I'll come in, alright?"

"_Alright," _Chin answers. _"Call if you need anything."_

Steve ends the conversation and shoves the cell back into his pants' pocket. He quickly eats up his breakfast and places the bowl, along with his empty coffee cup, in the sink. He loosens the band aid around his left index finger and tosses it away.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

It takes another hour for Danny to stir from his sleep. Blinking, he notices his tall partner standing next to his bed. He frowns. _"Now that's creepy."_

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Steve asks softly while shaking two Tylenol pills out of a plastic bottle.

"Like I have the worst hangover ever…" Danny mutters and rubs at his eyes with his index finger and thumb. "What time is it?" He pushes himself into a more upright position against the headboard.

Steve places the pills in his friend's outstretched hand, accompanied by a glass of water. "A little after eight."

"Have you been here all night?" The Jersey native asks once he has choked down the medicine. His stomach grumbles unhappily.

"Yeah. I crashed in the guest room when you fell asleep."

Danny nods and sinks back against the soft pillows.

"Do you still feel sick?" The former SEAL asks after a pause and narrows his eyes. He lets his laser sharp gaze travel over his partner's too pale form, assessing his condition.

"Somewhat," Danny admits. "But it's a bit better." With a grimace, he remembers the countless times his body has tried to heave up one of his inner parts during the night. It had not been a pretty matter.

"Do you think you'll be fine for a few hours on your own? They need me at HQ for a while."

Danny eyes his partner with worry and a bit of suspicion. "Did something happen?"

Shaking his head, Steve crosses his arms over his chest. It was obvious that Danny would ask something like that. "I don't know what happened exactly, but the Hawai'i Police called about a body."

Danny decides to just accept Steve's meager explanation and to not ask further questions. He knows that his partner would inform him of important things. That is just how they work.

"Sure, go, I'll be fine," Danny says as he struggles to keep his eyes from slipping shut again. Although he had slept for a few hours straight, he still feels extremely tired.

Only after Danny promises to call Steve if he needs something, drink a lot of water, and stay in bed, does the SEAL leave. It takes less than five minutes before the blond detective drifts off to sleep again.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Steve arrives at his beachfront house a little before nine. He makes a beeline for the kitchen where he immediately switches on the coffee machine. Huffing out a breath, he remembers times when he was forced to stay up for seventy-two hours straight back in his SEAL days. It seems he cannot do that anymore. He is reviled to admit it, but the life as a cop has made him soft. At least as soft as the job as leader of a major crimes task force can make someone.

Jogging up the stairs, he walks into his bedroom and opens the dresser for some clean cloths. Shedding out of the shirt and pants from yesterday, he throws them into the hamper and steps into the shower. The cool water feels good and helps him wake up.

A quick shave and a final cup of coffee follow before he once again sits behind the wheel of his truck and drives toward the Five-0 headquarters in the government area of Honolulu.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Kono is bent over the large smart table when Steve enters the office a short time later. She looks up and smiles.

"Hey, boss," she greets and straightens up. Crossing her slender arms over her light purple top, she leans her hip against the edge of the electronic table.

"Hey," Steve replies and nods toward the various data bases and reports she has opened. "What are you working on?"

Immediately turning her attention back to work, Kono flickers her hand lightly over the computer and points to one of the screens hanging from the ceiling: "The skeleton that was found on the Big Island, or rather the cloths it is wearing, match the description of a Jimmy Reynolds. He disappeared from Oahu in October 2008 without a trace."

Steve lets his eyes wander over the numerous newspaper articles from the year 2008, each one mapping out the disappearance of 39 year old Jimmy K. Reynolds. He frowns and puts his hands on his hips when his gaze falls onto the filled out report from the Hawai'i Police Department. The majority of the report is hidden behind black squares – indicating classified information.

"Why is this confidential?" Steve asks as he points to the report.

Kono sighs. "We don't know. We tried to contact the Navy but they shut us down without giving us anything helpful."

Steve shakes his head in lack of understanding. "Alright, I'll reach out to my contacts. Something's going on."

"Chin and Lou are still at HPD. They should be back any minute."

"Good." Steve briefly checks his phone for any messages from Danny. When he sees nothing he turns around and heads for his own office. "I'll make some calls."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Danny looks up at the ceiling. His hands are folded on his stomach, willing its meager contents to stay where they are. _"I am not going to be sick. I am __**not**__ going to be sick,"_ he keeps telling himself while taking deep and even breaths.

The first few hours after Steve's departure had been okay. He had managed to doze a little more and just concentrated on the gentle humming of the air conditioner when the nausea or stomach cramps had gotten too agonizing. It has had a somewhat hypnotizing effect. He even had been able to walk to the bathroom and back without getting too dizzy or sick – which was a huge win in his book!

A soft knock on his bedroom door makes him roll his eyes. "You've been gone for barely two hours," he snorts weakly, fully expecting his partner to stalk into the room again.

"Do you want me to leave again?" A soft female voice asks in amusement. Danny jerks his head around and gapes at the blonde woman dressed in a light blue summer dress. He winces when the movement makes his stomach roil.

Melissa smiles lovingly at Danny and steps closer to the bed. She sets down the white plastic bag she is holding in her left hand and lowers herself onto the mattress next to Danny's hip.

"How are you feeling?" She murmurs as she gently smoothers his tousled hair back and leans down for a kiss.

Danny moans in pleasure when her cool hand touches his feverish skin. "I'm better," he mumbles and lets his eyes slip closed, suddenly really happy with himself for giving Melissa a spare key to his house. "I thought you were working today?"

"I am," she confirms and then chuckles. "But I got a text from Grace that said you need someone to nurse you back to health. So I took a break."

With a snort, Danny opens his eyes again. "Gracie said that, huh?" He pulls Melissa down until her head rests on his chest. He breathes in the faint scent of her rose shampoo.

"I brought you some soup, if you're hungry." She looks up while her left hand rubs his chest.

Danny smiles and runs a hand through her wavy hair. "Thank you, Amb-" Pressing his lips together, he briefly closes his eyes. "I'm sorry; Melissa. It's still a little fresh…"

Caringly kissing his cheek, Melissa pushes herself into a sitting position again. "Don't worry about it," she waves him off with a gentle kiss. "It'll probably take a while."

"Yeah…" Danny agrees. His hand slips under the covers, finding the healing scar on his side where he got stabbed by Melissa's ex-husband a few weeks ago.

"So, you up for some soup?" She asks with a smile, changing the subject to something less upsetting.

"That'd be great, thanks," Danny says again and watches her leave. A happy smile spreads across his lips and he instantly feels better. He had not sent her a message yesterday about his ailing health because he knew she was under a lot of pressure at work. But leave it to his thoughtful daughter to organize a helper. A very beautiful helper, to say the least.

When Melissa returns a few minutes later with a tray, Danny sits up. She places the food on his lap and sits down next to him.

"It's my grandmother's recipe. It'll cure you instantly and make you feel better," she vows and holds out a spoon for him.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Time is slow going back at headquarters. Steve growls unhappily when he dares to glance at the time on his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he refocuses on the task at hand; getting the Navy to declassify the report from the Hawai'i Police Department. He has already made some calls but everyone seems to be dodging his requests. In short, Five-0 has hit a brick wall after just mere hours.

At least Danny seems to be doing fine. Steve got a text message from his partner about one hour ago, telling him that Melissa paid him a surprise visit to play his personal nurse. Snorting, Steve had bit his lower lip. But before he had time to reply something naughty, the Jersey native had sent another message, saying, '_Take your mind out of the gutter!'_ Laughing, Steve had put the phone back down and picked up the landline, bracing himself for a bunch of endless conversations with uptight Navy personnel.

Eventually, after what feels like the twentieth phone call, one of his former superiors, Commander Sean Brix, promises to have a look at the furtiveness with which the Navy seems to be handling the case. Blowing out a relieved breath, Steve leans back in his chair and rubs his tired eyes. This part of the job definitely is not his favorite.

He is just about to get up and inform his team about the minor accomplishment, when his phone starts to ring. Frowning, he picks it up and glances at the display.

"Yes, Melissa?"

"_Hi Steve, sorry to bother you but Danny's fever rose up to 101.5. I would love to stay with him but I have an important meeting which I can't postpone."_ He clearly hears the regret in her voice. _"He says he doesn't need anyone to stay with him but…"_ her voice trails off.

Steve smiles in understanding. "I get it. Tell him I'll be there in about thirty minutes." But then he thinks better of it, "No, hold on. Don't tell him anything. Otherwise he'll just shoot me when I walk through that door again."

Giggling, Melissa agrees before saying her goodbyes. Steve swiftly gathers up his laptop, paperwork and car keys and leaves his office.

"You already leaving again?" Lou, who is standing at the smart table with Chin and Kono, asks with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," Steve nods. "I'll take some work to Danny's house. I placed a call to an old friend of mine at Pearl about the report. I hope he will get back to me soon. How about you guys come over to Danny's tonight so we can go everything we've got so far?"

"Sounds good. I wanted to pay our patient a visit anyway." Kono grins and looks at her other two team mates for confirmation.

"We'll bring by dinner," Chin suggests which earns him a thankful smile from the former SEAL.

With a wave of his hand, Steve pushes the glass door open. "See you later, guys."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

When Steve arrives at Danny's place exactly twenty-eight minutes later, Melissa's silver Volvo is already gone. Parking in the spot which the Camaro usually resides, he kills the engine and makes his way to the front door. Without bothering to knock, he pulls out the spare key and unlocks the door.

He is greeted by the sound of someone throwing up in the bathroom.

_"Terrific,"_ he thinks with a silent sigh as he hurries across the living room, dumping his keys, laptop and paperwork on the table behind the couch in the process.

"Danny?" He calls out and slows down before rounding the corner. He wants to give his partner some privacy. Not that this sight would be anything new for him after yesterday…

"Steve?" A hoarse voice asks, followed by a cough. "What are you doing here – again?" The slight annoyance is obvious.

Throwing all his good intentions about privacy out the window, Steve rounds the corner until he is standing right in front of the open bathroom door. Danny is just staggering back to his feet and flushes the toilet. The sour smell of vomit still lingers in the air, though.

"You don't look too good, buddy," Steve winces and quickly wets a towel to press against Danny's sweaty and hot neck.

Grumbling something, Danny shakily bends over the sink to rinse out his mouth and wash his hands. When he raises to his full height again, he glances at Steve through the mirror: "Well, I don't really _feel_ good, either."

Patting his friend on the shoulder in sympathy, the former SEAL steers him back to the bedroom. He wrinkles his nose at the stuffy and stale air inside the room. Without as much as asking, he stalks over to the window and practically rips it open.

Danny just glares for a second before he all but face plants onto the mattress. He lets out a muffled, "Hey!" when something is thrown at him. Weakly lifting his head, he scowls at Steve.

"You need to change your shirt. The one you're wearing is soaked with sweat," Steve explains and points out the wet stains on the detective's grey shirt.

Grumbling something under his breath, Danny struggles into a sitting position while Steve picks up all the pillows scattered across the floor, no doubt thrown there in Danny's haste to get to the bathroom.

"You know, there are other places to put- hey, you okay?" Steve frowns at his partner when he suddenly stops mid movement and pales drastically. Scrambling to his feet, he reaches his partner's side and puts a grounding hand on his shoulder. His voice is soft and gentle, "Danny, hey, you alright?"

Slowly shaking his head, Danny swallows thickly. His eyes frantically dart around for the blue bucket he knows has to be close by. Thankfully, Steve seems to be able to read his mind and the bucket appears under his chin – Not one second too late.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Kono exits her red Chevy Cruze shortly after five o'clock. She turns around and shields her eyes against the setting sun when she hears the roaring of her cousin's car engine just down the street.

Smiling, Chin gets out of his car as well after he parked right behind Kono. Lou, who pushes open the passenger door of the Mustang, has a brown paper bag dangling from his fingers.

"Let's go. I'm starving!" Kono urges and hastily walks to the entrance of Danny's new house. Ringing the doorbell, she takes a step back and waits for someone, Steve in particular, to open. It does take a little bit longer than expected before the door gets unlocked from the other side and is practically yanked off its hinges. Shrinking back, Kono eyes Steve's clearly stressed appearance with raises eyebrows.

"Hey," he huffs out and forces a smile on his lips. "Sorry, thing's just got a little crazy," he adds when he notices his team's wary expressions.

"Danny alright?" Chin eyes his boss cautiously.

Taking a breath, Steve nods. "Yeah, yeah. Everything's okay. Danny just, uh, you know… that flu thing is pretty stressful on him and his body," he tries to explain and rubs the back of his neck. "But he's sleeping now, so…" Steve points to the dining room.

Kono squeezes his arm with a chuckle when she passes him. "You're a good friend, Steve."

Rolling his eyes, the former SEAL follows his team into the kitchen. While Lou unpacks dinner, Steve grabs some plates and forks.

Once everyone has food in front of them, they start to talk about the case. By now, Steve has heard back from Commander Brix, and quickly recaps what he has told him, "Jimmy Reynolds was in the witness protection program. He was supposed to testify against a major human trafficking ring, but the day before the hearing he disappeared from the safe house on Lanai. And apparently, along with Reynolds, some very important documents went missing as well. When _he_ disappeared, so did the evidence."

"Okay, so because the Navy suspects some kind of evidence with Reynolds' body, they sealed the report?" Kono asks and looks at Steve in question.

He nods. "That about sums it up."

Rubbing his chin, Lou puts down his beer bottle. "What's our next step?"

Steve pushes his still half full plate away before speaking, "We wait. I don't think whoever killed Reynolds would leave evidence behind. And even if they did, since it was an active HPD case, the Navy is committed to give us at least some of the information. We'll be able to work with that. If we're lucky, they'll even ask us for help."

"Why don't we just let the Navy handle the case?" Kono shrugs.

Steve sighs and tiredly leans back in his chair. "Because the Navy does not care about Reynolds as a person. They just want to make sure they get the missing evidence and get the people responsible. Same goes for the FBI, which is also involved."

"But that's not how _we_ operate," Chin agrees in determination.

Steve looks at him. "Right."

The four Five-0 members sit around the table for another 45 minutes, just talking about everything under the sun. Steve elucidates the up and down in his partner's well-being and eventually also informs them about his plan to stay another night. Just to be safe. He had put a change of clothes in his truck anyway.

"Is he able to keep water down?" Lou knows from personal experience how fast dehydration can become a problem.

But Steve is able to eliminate that worry, "Yeah, It's the food that makes his stomach go crazy."

"Well, pass on our get well wishes," Chin says as he follows Lou and Kono through the door. It is pitch dark outside and the unsettled movement of the clouds indicates an oncoming storm.

"I will, thanks for dinner," Steve salutes with a weak smile before shutting the door. Sighing, he dumps the dirty dishes in the sink, too tired to do them now, sets the alarm, and drags his drowsy body into the guest room.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Waking only one hour later to the feeling of being uncomfortably warm, Steve struggles to push the covers down to waist level. Blinking at the dark ceiling, he listens to the pounding of heavy rain against the window. Shadows are dancing at the walls and ceiling and lightning illuminate the room from time to time.

But it is only when Steve rolls onto his left side, that he notices the dull ache in his stomach. "No, no, no…" He moans sleepily and buries his head deeper into the pillow.

Two minutes later, he scrambles out of bed and rushes to the bathroom.

**To be continued…**


	3. The Tables Are Turned

**Author's Note #1: Here is chapter 3! I decided to post it a little earlier than planned since a good friend from my home country will come and visit me in California. I'm really excited! She'll have to watch Hawaii Five-0 with me at 9pm, though. That's not negotiable!**

**Author's Note #2: Thank you AGAIN for all the nice reviews. They really make my day!**

* * *

**MA'I (In Sickness and in Health) - Chapter 3**

Danny is surprised when he wakes up at 8am and the house is silent, except for the still falling rain which pounds against the roof. He knows Steve must still be here. The SEAL had told him a thousand times yesterday that he will spend another night. Despite Danny's protests.

_"Can't blame the guy for being tired,"_ Danny thinks when he tiptoes to the guestroom and peeks inside, seeing his partner face down and still out. His left arm is dangling over the edge of the mattress, fingertips barely touching the hardwood floor.

Pulling the door completely shut, Danny shuffles into the kitchen. He rubs his aching forehead and squints when the morning light gets too bright for his sensitive eyes. He swallows and takes some deep breaths to quell down the raising nausea. _"When will this finally stop?"_

Walking over to the sink, he reaches for a clean glass from the dish drying rack. He sees the dirty plates and silverware, surprised that Steve just dumped them there instead of actually _doing_ the dishes. On the other hand, since they spent three days together in an apartment a few weeks ago for a stakeout, nothing should surprise Danny anymore. On the contrary; he should be happy Steve did not decide to microwave eggs again.

Sighing, Danny walks over to the refrigerator and pulls it open, making the glass bottles inside clink. He knows he should try to eat something light since neither Steve's nor Melissa's soup stayed down for very long. Unfortunately, nothing he sees in front of him makes him feel even slightly hungry. Swallowing harshly, he shuts the door again and settles for the water; the only thing his stomach seems to tolerate right now.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Danny jerks his head around, startled. "Geez, leave your ninja moves at home next time, would ya?" He grumbles and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "And if you must know; I would still be in bed but I was thirsty and since you were still snoring soundly I thought I'll just get it myself."

"Why didn't you call me?" Steve asks, letting the comment about his apparent snoring slide. He is not feeling up to an argument right now.

Danny leans against the kitchen counter and takes a sip from his water. It feels good and soothing sliding down his raw throat. "Because I'm perfectly capable of getting myself a glass of water, Steve."

"Okay." Steve passes his partner and reaches for a clean glass himself. While he waits for it to be filled with cool water, he presses the fingers of his left hand against his temple.

"I do have coffee, you know," Danny speaks up and points to the machine. "You look like you could use it," he adds, smirking at the tired and ruffled look his partner is sporting.

"I know," Steve says. "But I had more than enough yesterday. It's still giving me a headache."

Danny watches his partner take a slow sip before he puts the glass back down. The former SEAL then turns to the sink and begins to rinse the dirty dishes from the previous night, before he loads them into the dish washer.

A wave of dizziness hits Steve when he bends down and he grips the edge of the counter to keep from stumbling. He shakes his head unobtrusively to clear away the fogginess.

When he looks up, he sees that Danny has closed his eyes and is leaning more against the counter.

"Why don't you go lay back down for a while?" Steve suggests. He does not like the paleness of his partner's skin, nor the death grip he has on the water glass. It looks like it may shatter into a thousand pieces any moment.

Slowly opening his eyes, Danny glances down at his hand. He relaxes his tight hold and sets the glass down. "Yeah, I think I might do that."

"Good. Just take it easy for a few days. Do you mind if I take a shower here? I have a change of clothes in my car but I'm too sweaty to just change into them." Steve tugs at the collar of his blue sleeveless shirt with a disgusted grimace.

"Sure. Fresh towels are in the closet across from the bathroom," Danny explains and points a thumb over his shoulder. At Steve's grateful nod, he turns around and makes his way back to his bedroom. He is feeling better than the previous day but the walking around and standing upright makes his legs feel weak and his muscles tremble.

Steve watches Danny leave. The moment he is out of sight, he sags against the kitchen counter. He takes a couple of deep breaths to push down the annoying nausea, which is sticking with him since the moment he had woken in the middle of the night. _"This is gonna be a long day…"_

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Kono pushes a stray of hair behind her ear while pouring freshly made coffee into her mug. She was the first one to arrive at headquarters this morning and therefore takes advantage of the luxury that is hot coffee. Her team mates can put up with the lukewarm leftovers. She smirks and lifts the steaming mug to her lips to take a careful sip.

She is on her way back to her office when she catches movement from outside the entrance. Looking up, she sees Steve pushing the glass door open. He is running a hand through his damp hair to brush away the droplets of rain.

"Good morning," she greets him and motions with her cup to the coffee machine. "I just made coffee. You should get some while it's still fresh."

Steve swallows thickly but forces a smile on his lips. Just the thought of coffee makes him feel sick. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass. Did you hear back from the Hawai'i Police Department?"

Kono narrows her eyes for a moment. Something about Steve seems off but she cannot quite pinpoint what it is. Instead, she answers his question, "No, but I read in the system that the bones are in the lab now for tests. They were transported to O'ahu yesterday evening."

Steve unconsciously grits his teeth when a cramp seizes his stomach. He clears his throat. "Alright, I guess we need to see Max then," he concludes, willing his face to stay relaxed. "Excuse me for a minute."

Steve feels Kono's irritated gaze follow him as he jerkily turns around and makes his way across the main room. Some of the tension leaves his body when he rounds the corner and is, thus, out of her line of sight. He hurriedly pushes the door to the restroom open with his left palm outstretched in front of him.

As soon as he is inside, he staggers over to the sink, gripping the porcelain so tight his knuckles turn a stark white. Dropping his head, the former SEAL breaths in and out through his mouth in order to keep the nausea at bay.

He had already lost this battle once after waking up when Danny had shut the door to the guest room. Not to forget the two times in the early morning hours. He had spent a good amount of the night in the bathroom after that, not trusting his body to leave the safe haven that was the toilet.

Opening his eyes, Steve lifts his head and glances at his reflection in the mirror. He winces at the pale and drawn man that looks back. No wonder Kono had frowned at him; he looks terrible. And that is exactly the way he feels, too. _"Damn germs!" _He curses before his stomach starts to cramp again and he finds himself on his knees in front of one of the toilet bowls.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

When Chin and Lou enter headquarters just minutes after Steve hastily left, Kono is standing at the smart table. Her fingers dance expertly over the touchscreen.

"Hey, cuz," Chin greets and wrinkles his forehead in confusion when he glances in Steve's empty office. "Where's McGarrett? I saw his car in the parking lot."

Kono sighs and puts her hands on her hips. "I'm not sure," she admits and glances toward the direction where Steve had disappeared to. "He arrived five minutes ago but seemed _off_ a little bit. I think he might be coming down with something as well."

Rolling his eyes, Lou crosses his arms over his Hawaiian shirt clad chest. He had already suspected that it would only be a matter of time before that would happen. But before he can speak up, they hear Steve's steadily louder growing voice until he enters the main room with his phone pressed to his ear.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate the heads up," he says with a sharp nod and ends the call. The moment he shifts his attention to his team, he senses their eyes boring into him. Before anyone is able to say anything, he moves the focus toward the case, "That was Commander Brix. The Navy agreed to let us work the case with some restrictions. Lou, we are going to see Max. He might have found something by now."

Steve purposefully strides past his team, not giving them any chance to get in a word. He knows he looks awful but they do not have time to discuss that matter as long as there is still an open case. As soon as it is over, he will take some Advil and relax for a bit to get rid of the bug. That easy.

Grover sighs and throws Chin and Kono a look of annoyance before following the stubborn SEAL outside.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Steve huffs out a breath of annoyance himself when, as soon as they enter Max Bergman's office, the medical examiner points out the unhealthy pallor of his skin and advises him to seek some sun.

"I'll keep that in mind, Max," he sighs before nodding to the laid out skeleton on the exam table. "What did you find?"

Max immediately gets into his element**, **"I was able to identify the deceased, as already suspected, as Jimmy Reynolds due to his dental records. The cause of death was a bullet to his chest, close range. It shattered most of his bones in that area and must have ripped apart his organs."

Steve and Lou both look at the deformed bullet Max shows them, which is clearly above average size.

"That's military caliber," the former SEAL notes and looks up at the medical examiner for conformation.

Max nods. "It is, indeed, Commander. A 7.62 NATO, to be exact."

"So," Lou begins with raised eyebrows. "Either the killer had access to a military weapon or the killer _**is**_ military."

Steve scrubs a hand down his face. The case just got way more complicated. "Did you already share that information with the Navy, Max?"

"No, but I was planning on doing so right before you entered. I am ordered to inform them of every step and every finding."

"Don't tell them yet. We need to be careful who we share this information with if the military is involved. There might be a… a mole…" Steve's last words come out followed by a gasps as he briefly closes his eyes. He suddenly scrunches up his face and presses his right hand against his stomach.

"Are you feeling alright, Commander?" Max asks worriedly and glances back and forth between him and the former SWAT captain. But Steve just concentrates on breathing deeply and evenly in and out. He had managed to keep the nausea at bay until that very moment.

Eventually, Grover reaches for his arm and turns him around towards the exit. Over his shoulder, he speaks to the puzzled medical examiner, "Thanks, Max. We'll call you if we need anything."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Once in the hallway, Lou steers Steve toward the row of blue chairs lined up at the wall. Sitting down, the former SEAL immediately wraps one arm around his midsection.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Grover asks with a shake of his head.

Steve looks up at that, confused, "What?"

Rolling his eyes, the tall Chicago man continues, "What do you mean, 'what'? You almost puked all over Max's office floor." He points at the door to the medical examiner's office.

"I did not," Steve disputes and glares at Grover. His death stare would be much more intimidation, though, if his face would not be twisted in pain.

"Look," Grover says, dropping his voice to a more gentle tone. He sits down next to Steve and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You're doubtlessly coming down with the same thing as Williams. You should go home, rest."

Steve licks his lips. He knows Grover is probably right, but he is just not ready to accept that some tiny microorganism has succeeded in bringing him to his knees. Although, he feels pretty sick and spreading the germs all over the office might not be the wisest thing to do. It is bad enough that forty percent of Hawaii's elite task force has caught that nasty bug already.

Just when Steve is ready to give in and admit he is not feeling good, his phone starts to ring in his pocket. Fishing it out, he glances at the display. Lou peers over his shoulder. "Chin, what's up?"

"_We found something interesting you need to see."_

"We'll be right there," Steve speaks and hangs up. He attempts to stand up but Grover's large hand on his arm prevents him from doing so. Turning his head, he sees the stern expression on Lou's face. Steve sighs, "Look, we need to solve this case. Jimmy Reynolds' family has been waiting for answers for seven years now. I'll take some Advil or Tylenol and as soon as this is over, I'll rest, alright?"

Grover briefly looks away, clearly not satisfied with Steve's decision. But it is not his choice to make so he releases the former SEAL's arm. "Just, please, keep your germs to yourself." he adds which earns him a chuckle from Steve.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The moment Steve and Lou enter the room, Kono starts talking,"We pulled up a list with all the people who were working the Reynolds' case and therefore knew the safe house's location. Someone stood out: FBI Agent Kevin Lieberman from California, who was _supposed_ to work the case, quit a week before Reynolds' even went to the police. But, turns out, he _did_ work the case. His name turned up in one of the reports. It looks like they mixed up the dates. It says in his file his last day of work was Friday, September 31st, 2008. The thing is; September doesn't have 31 days and even if they only got the date wrong, September 30th 2008 still wouldn't be a Friday," she pausesand pulls up a form which declares when Agent Lieberman left the FBI. "My guess is that he left one month later; October 31st. _After_ Reynolds went missing."

"That can't be a coincident," Steve agrees and narrows his eyes. "Did you call the FBI to get his new address?"

Kono puts one hand on her hip. "We did, but apparently he didn't leave a new address or contact information behind. He just disappeared after he quit."

Steve rubs his forehead. He expected the case to be a short one, but apparently it is much more complicated than he assumed. To make matters worse, his stomach still has not settled, not even after Grover had forced him to take some Advil and drink half a bottle of water. On the contrary. With his stomach gurgling unhappily, the SEAL knows it will not be long before he finds himself in front of the toilet bowl again. And that moment is fast approaching, "I'll be right back."

He does not care about the worried looks his team throws his way. All he cares about is making it to the bathroom in time.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Danny zaps through the various sports channels on his TV. He had had a pretty good day so far. After he went back to sleep in the morning, he woke up feeling almost back to normal. There was still a small reminder in form of an unpleasant queasiness, but he had managed to eat some toast and egg and his stomach tolerated it. After he took a shower, he felt even better and more human.

Glancing at the time, he notices that it is almost four. Steve said he would drop by again to check on him and bring some take out. Although Danny complains a lot about his partner's _mother hen mode_, he honestly appreciates him being there. He know he has a very good friend in Steve.

As if on cue, a car pulls up in his driveway. Danny throws the thin blanket off his legs and slowly stands up. He walks to the door and unlocks it, surprised to see Lou's car instead of Steve's. He is even more surprised when his partner gets out on the passenger side.

"Aw, come on, Steve! Don't tell me you managed to get the Silverado riddled with bullets, too. Was my beautiful car not enough sacrifice?" he jokes dramatically when the two men walk toward the front door. Thankfully it had finally stopped raining.

"Don't worry, Danny," Lou speaks up when the former SEAL does not make an attempt to reply. "The truck is in perfect condition. I'm just here to check on the sick before I dropped this one off at home." He points at Steve.

Danny furrows his brow. It is only now that he takes a closer look at his partner and notices his sickly paleness. "What happened?" he instantly asks, worry lingering in his voice. He looks for obvious injuries like bullet holes or broken bones but cannot detect anything.

"Nothing," Steve grumbles as he enters his partner's house. Lou nudges him to the couch, where he gracelessly plops down. The Jersey native looks at Grover for an explanation.

Smirking, he points back and forth between Danny and Steve, "Seems like the two of you have shared more than living space the last two days – because McGarrett has caught that nasty little bug too."

Groaning, Danny runs a hand through his hair and rounds the couch. He looks down at Steve whose appearances is flat out miserable. "Of course we can't do anything halfway," Danny sighs with a sympathetic shake of his head.

Steve tries to glare at his friend but is not really successful since his eyes are glassy and his complexion is ghostly white. Nevertheless, he tries to snort a response. Unfortunately, this attempt does not work out when his stomach suddenly lurches and his face pales even more. He tries, and fails, to suppress the gagging reflex. Quickly stumbling to his feet, he crosses the room and slams the bathroom door shut behind his back.

Danny winces. "Now that looks familiar…"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Guys, seriously, I'll be fine! I don't need that," Steve protests when Kono approaches him with a hot-water bottle. After a long argument with Lou and Danny he is once again sitting on his partner's couch. This time with his whole team fussing over him. He is barely one _"Let me feel your forehead again" _away from just making a break for it and jumping through the window. At this point, he would count lacerations as an insignificant sacrifice for freedom.

"Where, exactly, does_ puking-your-guts-out-for-twenty-minutes-straight_ match your interpretation of the word 'fine'?" Danny speaks up from where he sits on the smaller couch to Steve's right. He sips on a cup of tea that Kono made him.

"What about the case? We need to-"

"Right now we can't do anything," Chin interrupts as he shoves a glass of cool water into Steve's hand, along with two Pepto-Bismol pills. "The Navy is trying to find out who wrote down the wrong date in Lieberman's file. That task is out of our hands."

Blowing out a breath, Steve sinks back against the soft backrest. Chin is right. Right now, there is nothing he, or his team, can do to make any progress in the case.

"Okay, yeah," he mumbles and rubs a hand over his face. His other hand finds its place on top of the hot-water bottle, which Kono had managed to place on his stomach without getting her head bitten off. "Why don't we all go home and catch some sleep? You shouldn't be here anyway. Those germs are sneaky."

"That's a fantastic idea, my friend," Danny confirms and points at his partner. "But we have already made plans while you were… _busy_ in the bathroom."

Furrowing his brow, Steve tilts his head to the side. "Plans? What plans?"

Lou smirks. "Well, since my wife and kids are still in Chicago visiting my mother-in-law, I'll stay here tonight to keep an eye on the both of you. And don't worry; I'll keep my distance."

Steve opens his mouth to say something but clamps it shut again. Then he turns his head to Danny with raised eyebrows**.** "And you approved of this?"

"Don't be so shocked. You know what you can expect with this nasty bug and since I'm still not one hundred percent back to normal myself, we sure can use someone here tonight," Danny shrugs, much to the SEAL's irritation.

"Like you were _normal_ to begin with," Steve mutters under his breath which earns him a glare from his partner.

Steve wants to protest. He really does. But even he knows when an argument is just unreasonable. He is not feeling well, running a fever, has constant stomach cramps, and expels everything he swallows before it even reaches his stomach. And Danny is only just over the worst part himself. So he agrees, "Fine."

"That's settled then," Chin says with a glance at his wrist watch. "Food delivery should be here any minute now."

Steve looks at Chin in confusion. "Food delivery? What the hell did you guys all do while I was in the bathroom?"

"Twenty minutes is a very long time, babe," Danny grins as he slowly stands up. He is relieved when he experiences neither dizziness nor nausea.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The delivery guy only takes a few more minutes and soon the smell of freshly baked pizza fills the house. Chin had ordered soup for Steve and Danny, though Danny managed to eat a small slice of pizza as well. They sit on the couch, watching the recap of a baseball game until almost nine o'clock.

"Did you like the soup?" Grover asks Steve once he closed and locked the front door. Danny had excused himself to call Grace.

"Yeah," Steve mutters absentmindedly. He clenches and unclenches his right fists while staring at the TV.

Lou rounds the couch and narrows his eyes at his friend and boss. "You okay?"

Steve tears his gaze away from the TV. "I think the soup is not agreeing with me very well…" he admits and presses his lips together. He can already feel his stomach churn again.

Lou wordlessly reaches for Steve's arm and helps him up. He steadies the former SEAL when he sways on his feet and threatens to fall back down.

"B-Bathroom," Steve pants between gags. He will _**not **_throw up in his partner's living room!

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Lou hums softly to himself while he prepares three cups of chamomile tea for the two sick men and himself, after he left Steve in the bathroom upon his wish for privacy. Loading everything on a tray, he carefully makes his way back into the living room. He can still hear Danny talking on the phone with his daughter and decides to just leave the hot drinks on the table to not disturb his friend.

Picking up one cup, he walks down the hallway toward the guest room. The door is ajar and he knocks. When no one responds, he knocks again, louder.

Eventually, with a sigh, he pushes the door open and finds himself in the empty guest room. He sets the cup down on the dresser and frowns. "McGarrett?"

No answer.

Lou walks over to the attached bathroom. He tilts his head and listens for any sounds or noises coming from behind the door. But everything is quiet.

"Steve?" he calls out, "You in there?"

As before, nobody answers him. Blowing out a breath, he turns around and heads for Danny's bedroom. Steve might be there as well.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Yes, monkey. I'm already feeling much better," Danny explains to his daughter with a pleased smile on his lips. Sometimes he just does not understand how he deserves such a loving and caring child.

"_So, can I still come over tomorrow?" _Grace asks. _"You promised to help me with my homework, remember?"_

Debating for a moment, Danny bits his inner cheek. "We'll see about that, okay? I don't want you to get sick a few days before your cheer competition."

"_Yeah, I get it," _she mutters, clearly not happy with his answer.

Danny turns around when someone enters his bedroom. He raises his eyebrows at Lou in question, "Hold on, Grace," he says and pulls the phone away from his ear. "What's up?"

Grover's eyes dart around in the room. Eventually, his gaze settles back on Danny. "Have you seen McGarrett?" He wants to know, worry clearly evident in his deep voice.

Danny blinks, then holds his hand against the microphone of his cell. "What? No. I thought he went to lay down?"

Sighing, Lou rubs a hand down his face. "He's not in his room and I looked everywhere."

An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of Danny's stomach. Something does not seem right. "Monkey, I'll call you back in a bit, alright?"

"_Is everything okay?" _She asks, noticing her father's suddenly distressed tone.

"Don't worry. Everything is fine," he says, not sure who he is trying to reassuring more; Grace or himself.

As soon as Danny hangs up the phone, he turns to Grover with a serious expression on his face. He runs a hand through his blond hair. "Did you check the guest room?"

Lou nods, "He's not there."

"Okay. He can't have gotten far. Go check the backyard. I'll look in Grace's room," Danny says hastily, already rushing out of his bedroom to look for his partner. He knows Steve usually would never just leave without saying anything, but he is sick and running a fever. Who knows what he can get up to in this state?

Danny throws a quick glance in the empty guest bedroom. He is just about to walk further down the hallway to his daughter's room when he notices the faint light shining out from under the closed bathroom door.

Narrowing his eyes, he steps closer. "Steve?"

When he does not receive an answer, he hesitatingly reaches out for the door handle and tries it. Locked. _"Shit."_

"Steve, buddy, are you in here?" Danny calls out, knocking frantically. He tries the handle again but as before, it does not budge. A feeling of dread washes over him and he once again feels sick. He hastily crosses the room to rip open the top drawer of the dresser in the corner. He rummages through its contents until he finds the small key which allows him to unlock the door from outside.

Back at the door, he puts the small key into the lock and turns it with shaking hands.

The moment he pushes the door open, his heart sinks.

"Steve!"

**To be continued...**


	4. All's Well That Ends Well

**Author's Note #1: Here it is, guys; the last chapter! We finally find out what caused the boys to get sick. I really hope you enjoyed reading this little story as much as I loved writing it. I guess you realized by now that I'm a huge whump fan (who isn't, right?). I'm excited for the last five episodes of season 5 and hope we'll soon get the good news that Hawaii Five-0 got renewed for a 6****th**** season. Fingers crossed!**

**Author's Note #2: Thank you all for the kind reviews and likes. Every single one made me smile and encouraged me to keep going. So, THANK YOU!**

* * *

**MA'I (In Sickness and in Health) - Chapter 4**

_**15 Minutes Earlier**_

Steve shuts the door behind him and leans his too warm forehead against it. His whole body is trembling and he feels wobbly on his legs. Everything around him is spinning and his head throbs in rhythm with his fast pounding heart.

Stumbling to the sink, he grips the porcelain until his fingers turn white. His arms are shaking in distress and his vision keeps greying out around the edges.

Steve fumbles with the tap until cold water runs over his fingers and wrists. His mouth feels extremely dry**, **but he cannot bring himself to drink water. His stomach is already churning and cramping and even something as simple as water would not do him any good right now.

He gags again and squeezes his eyes shut when it causes his splitting headache to worsen. But in the end, it is to no avail.

Pushing himself off the sink, he staggers to the toilet bowl and sags to his knees in front of it. Once again, his body expels the just eaten food. The soup makes an unwelcome reappearance, followed by a bout of painful dry heaves.

Five minutes later, Steve is completely spent and exhausted. He is panting heavily and sweat dribbles down his face and neck, soaking into the collar of his light blue shirt, which is already sticking to his torso.

The air inside the small bathroom feels hot and stuffy and only adds to Steve's lightheadedness. He needs to get out of this room. Get some fresh air.

Struggling to his feet, Steve reaches up to the sink to pull himself upright. But as soon as he is standing, a heavy wave of dizziness slams into him. The world surrounding him tilts and spins and black dots invade his vision. His pulse rate drops and he collapses into a heap on the cold tiled floor.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_**Present**_

"Lou! Lou, in here!" Danny shouts anxiously over his shoulder before he drops to his knees next to his unconscious partner. His hands are shaking badly when he presses his index and middle finger against Steve's neck. "Thank god!" He breathes out when he feels a fast thumping pulse under his fingertips. "Steve, can you hear me?"

Steve, who is lying motionless on his stomach, does not so as much as twitch at the contact. His usually tanned skin is paper white and his breath comes out shallow and way too fast. Along with the pounding heartbeat, Danny knows his partner is in some sort of trouble.

"Danny, what-"

"Call an ambulance!" Danny interrupts Grover when the man appears in the door frame. "I found him passed out in the bathroom. His heart rate is going through the roof and he's not breathing right."

Without losing any time, Lou pulls out his phone and calls for emergency service, telling them exactly what his team mate had just stated. "They're gonna be here in less than 10 minutes," the tall man says as he crouches down on the other side of the former SEAL. He takes in the pale face and chapped lips.

"Steve, open your eyes. Come on!" Danny tries to coax him back to awareness as he lightly taps his cheek. He is rewarded with a soft moan. "That's it, buddy. Look at me."

Scrunching up his face, Steve's right hand feels around for something to identify where he is. He pulls his legs upward and lets out another pained moan when the pain and discomfort comes back with vengeance.

Lou leans in closer, stopping only mere inches from the SEAL's face, "Steve, can you hear me?" he asks, putting one hand on his shoulder.

A barely noticeable nod lets Danny and Lou know that, somewhere in Steve's confused brain he is awake. But only barely.

"D'nno…" Steve slurs quietly and turns his head to the right where his partner is kneeling. He opens his hazel eyes to two slits and blinks.

Danny squeezes his shoulder. "I'm here, okay? I'm here. Just relax. EMT is on its way."

Another nod, this time a little stronger. Steve inhales and swallows thickly against the dryness in his throat. He feels sick and his stomach is hurting. Not to mention the pounding headache and the feeling of not getting enough air.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The short time it takes for the ambulance to arrive feels like an eternity for everyone involved. Steve starts to come around more with each passing minute and even tries to sit up. Eventually, Danny and Lou help him into an upright position and basically carry him over to the bed which, thankfully, is only a few steps away from the bathroom. There, he collapses and begins to dry heave before drifting off again until the EMT arrive.

"Get an IV going," the older one of the two paramedics, Jodie, tells her younger colleague as she takes Steve's blood pressure. She shakes her head at the poor reading. "Commander McGarrett?" She addresses him softly and leans in closer. When he does not answer her right away, she puts her left gloved hand on his too warm forehead. "Steve," she tries again, this time calling him by his name.

Danny and Lou are standing off to the side and observe the situation worriedly. They had told the two EMTs about the stomach bug, which had assailed first Danny and then Steve, the constant nausea and dizziness.

"I can barely find a vein," Kade, a dark haired Hawaiian, informs Jodie while looking for a suitable spot in the crook of Steve's left arm to insert the IV.

"He's dehydrated," Jodie says. "Temperature; 103, blood pressure; 90 over 40. Pulse is 120, rapid and thready," she lists without taking her eyes off her patient. "Steve, can you hear me?"

This time, two tired eyes slowly flutter open and Jodie smiles.

"There you are," she speaks softly and gently squeezes his shoulder. "My name is Jodie and this is my partner Kade. Can you tell me how you feel?"

Steve tries to clear his throat but ends up having a coughing fit. He grimaces and clutches his stomach.

"Easy, easy." Jodie soothingly rubs his arm. Danny quickly steps closer to the bed and reaches out to grab his partner's hand.

Once again opening his eyes, the former SEAL focuses first on the blond man and then on the pretty paramedic. "Sick," he mumbles and licks at dry lips. "Stomach and head hurt."

Jodie nods. "Okay," she says and looks up at her colleague who gives her the thumbs up, indicating that he successfully inserted the needle. "We will give you some fluids through an IV now, alright? That will help you."

Steve nods and wearily rubs his forehead. He is not quite able to recall what exactly had happened, but he figures it will come to him with time. Usually, he would be concerned in a situation like that but he sees Danny standing next to him and that has a calming effect.

Jodie kindly pats Danny's shoulder as she stands up. "We'll transfer him onto the gurney now and transport him to Tripler Army Medical Center, given his Navy past. The loss of consciousness is most likely related to the dehydration, along with the headache and dizziness. Nevertheless, a doctor will need to investigate the cause of the vomiting and stomach cramps," she explains to Danny and Lou while Kade lowers the gurney on the same height as the bed.

"Yeah," Danny says, hand resting on Steve's shoulder. "Tripler, you said?"

Jodie nods, "Exactly. You can meet us there."

With that, the two paramedics help Steve to carefully scoot from the mattress onto the gurney with an elevated headrest. He is not a big fan of being pushed around on one of those stretchers but right now he lacks the energy to even state his dislike.

Once Steve is securely strapped in and the IV is attached to the gurney, Danny steps closer again. "We'll see you at Tripler, okay?"

Steve shakes his head. "You should stay here, Danny. You're still sick."

"Don't worry," Grover speaks up from where he is standing behind the blond detective. "I'll take care of him. You just relax."

Giving his two friends a faint smile, Steve closes his eyes and prepares himself for the drive to the hospital.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"I can't believe this," Danny groans after the ambulance has pulled away from his driveway and disappeared around the corner. He drops down on the couch and buries his head in his hands. The headache is slowly creeping back. "We should have done something."

Lou sighs and sits down beside his friend. "And what? McGarrett's a stubborn son-of-a-bitch who doesn't exactly like to share his health issues with anyone. He'll be fine."

Danny lifts his head. "Yeah," he mumbles. "I just didn't expect a simple stomach bug to be the reason for him to end up in the hospital, you know. At least I hope it's just a simple bug-"

"Hey, let's not go there, alright. Everyone's body reacts differently to a virus. It might have been the stress of the case and the bug combined which sent his system into overdrive. And I guess the fact that he kept puking up every little bite wasn't helping, either."

"You're right," the Jersey native sighs. "And he hasn't been able to sleep properly, either. Let's call Chin and Kono. I'm sure they want to know what happened."

After two short calls to the two remaining members of Five-0, Danny and Lou are ready to drive to the hospital. Danny got dressed while Grover packed up most of Steve's stuff since they do not know for sure how long the former SEAL will need to stay at Tripler Medical Center.

Danny has just opened the front entrance and has one foot out of the door, when he nearly bumps straight into his neighbor, Kelly Brown. Startled, he takes a step back.

"Daniel," the elderly woman begins and clasps her hands together in front of her chest. "I am so glad to see you! I saw the ambulance in front of your house and got worried," she explains. "Are you and little Gracie all right?"

Danny cannot help but smile at his caring neighbor. "We are fine, Misses Brown. I appreciate the concern, though. It's my partner we're a bit worried about right now. He got pretty sick with a nasty stomach bug," he explains and points a thumb over his shoulder at Lou. "My friend and I are actually on our way to see him at the hospital now."

"Oh, of course," Kelly says with a sheepish smile as she steps away from the front door to let the two men exit. "I hope he will get better soon. Robert isn't doing very good either right now," she sighs, referring to her husband of thirty-six years.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Danny says sincerely but unobtrusively glances at the time on his phone. It has already been twenty-five minutes since the ambulance departed and he does not want to make Steve wait too long.

Apparently, Kelly notices, "Well, I guess we should have seen it coming," she chuckles. "Anyways, I wish your partner all the best."

"Thank you," Danny calls after her as he hurries to Grover's car. "Oh, and by the way, Misses Brown; the pineapple was delicious. I'll bring the Tupperware over in the next few days."

The grey haired woman turns around with a confused frown. "Pineapple, my dear?"

Danny suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. Kelly Brown is a lovely old lady but sometimes she is a little bit forgetful. Like the one time she had mistaken him for one of her sons and tried to give him $50 Dollars for his college fund.

"Yes, pineapple. You brought some over on Monday," he clarifies. Lou just snorts.

Suddenly, the confusion leaves Kelly's face. Her eyes widen in shock and she brings her hands up to her mouth. "Oh, no…"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Steve stares at the white, sterile ceiling. For the third time in a row he counts the large tiles above his head, blinking when they become slightly blurry. He rubs at his tired eyes and lets out a heavy sigh.

He is finally settled in his own quiet private room after an hour of getting poked and prodded by a doctor who asked him a ton of question: _"When did you start throwing up?", "Was that the first time you passed out?", "When was the last time you were able to keep something down?", "Does it hurt when I press here? Or here? What about here?"_

Turning his head, Steve leans over and reaches for the bag with his personal belongings. He winces when he pulls at the IV line and quickly checks if the needle is still embedded in his left arm. When he sees no blood, he grabs the plastic bag and pulls out his phone. Thankfully, he had it in his pocket when he was taken to the hospital.

He is just about to call Danny when someone knocks on the door.

A smile appears on the former SEAL's face when he sees his partner and friend enter. He pushes himself up a little higher and beams happily at them. "Didn't I tell you to stay home and rest?" He asks with raised eyebrows but it is obvious that he is happy to see his best friend.

Danny snorts. "Looks like you're feeling better," he says, both hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. He walks up to the hospital bed, followed by Grover.

"I am," Steve confirms happily.

Lou crosses his arms over his chest. "So, what's the verdict?" He wants to know and nods to the IV pole.

Steve sighs. "Well, they're keeping me on fluids because of the dehydration and I got a light antiemetic to help with the nausea. Up until now it's working. Thankfully," he adds quietly. He really does not want to live through that whole throwing up part again. His throat and stomach are still sore from the last twenty hours.

Lou exhales. "I don't wanna say 'I told you so,' but; I told you so," he says with a frustrated shake of his head. "I warned you about the risk of pushing your body to the limit. Why in hell didn't you say that you weren't able to keep liquid down? We talked about dehydration."

Steve bits his lip sheepishly. "I thought it was just a normal bug and that it would pass on its own. And then there was the case," he shrugs, now realizing that he probably did not act very smartly.

Huffing out a breath, Danny sits down on the mattress and puts his hand on his partner's arm to get his attention. He looks into his eyes with a serious expression on his face. "Listen, I know you like to think that you need to be part of every investigation and every step Five-0 takes, but the truth is you have put together a great team. And that great team is absolutely capable of operating without you being there 24/7. You need to trust them – us."

Steve lowers his gaze. "I _do t_rust you guys. It's just… you know, I feel responsible," he admits.

"We know you do," Danny says and squeezes Steve's arm. "We would just appreciate if you could shift down a gear before you collapse in my bathroom next time."

Steve winces. "Yeah, don't really want a repeat of that one, either."

Standing up again, Danny smiles. He was a little annoyed with Steve for ignoring his body's need for rest but right now he is just glad that his friend is feeling better and on the mend.

"And what about you?" Steve suddenly asks with raised eyebrows. "The doc told me it might be something different than a simple stomach bug. Maybe you should get checked out too?" The amused look Danny and Lou exchange makes the former SEAL frown in confusion. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Scratching his forehead, Danny clears his throat, "Well, we kinda have already figured out what it is. My dear neighbor helped us solve the _mystery_."

Steve's eyes dart between his two friends, waiting for more information. "So…?"

"Do you happen to remember the Tupperware with the pineapple chunks in my fridge?" Danny asks.

Steve thinks for a moment and then nods. "Yeah, sure. I had them for breakfast yesterday."

Danny points a finger at his friend. "There you have it."

If possible, Steve's confused frown deepens even more. He looks at Grover for help, but the man leaves it to the blond detective to tell the story. "But it tasted fine," Steve argues, still not quite getting it.

"Okay, let me explain," Danny speaks and quickly recaps what happened.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_**30 Minutes Earlier - Danny Williams' House**_

Danny quickly walks back to his clearly shocked neighbor. Kelly Brown just stares at him wide-eyed.

"Misses Brown, is everything alright?" He asks in irritation.

"My goodness, Daniel," she gasps out and grips his forearms. "I am _**so **_sorry. I should have remembered!" She shakes her head guiltily.

Danny looks at Lou who just shrugs. He is as confused as the detective.

"What should you have remembered?" Danny presses, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. He really wants to get to the hospital as quick as possible, but somehow he feels like Kelly might have something very important to share with him.

The elderly woman pulls back and looks at Danny apologetically. Then she begins to explain, "On Monday, I wanted to make Robert's favorite dinner; pineapple chicken teriyaki. I found a chicken breast in the freezer and put it in a Tupperware in the morning, together with the cut up pineapple. Before dinner time, I took it out and cooked the chicken. When I realized I had too much pineapple, I brought some over to your house." She pauses and looks at Danny as if that would explain everything. Unfortunately for her, Danny just blinks. "Daniel, dear, the chicken contained salmonella."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_**Present**_

"Salmonella?"

"Uh-huh."

"…from a _pineapple_?_"_

"Yup." Danny smirks at the stunned expression on Steve's face. "Apparently, fruit can get infested by salmonella too if kept together with something that already contains it. Doctor Maleko explained that to us."

Steve nods hesitatingly, still not quite believing what he has just heard. Earlier, on the way to the hospital, he had started to wonder of it was more than just a stomach bug, but he would have never expected salmonella.

"So, Doctor Maleko already knows?" Steve asks as he reaches for the glass of water on the table next to him.

"Yes, he does," Danny confirms and pushes the glass in his friend reach. "He said the symptoms would fit and that it would make sense since we both came down with the same thing. And as far as I know we're the only people who ate some of it. He'll still analyze your tests, though. He'll be back to talk to you in a bit."

Steve takes a careful sip of his water, relieved when it does not cause any immediate nausea.

"Now that we have that figured out; get some rest," Danny speaks and takes the water glass back. It is obvious that Steve has trouble keeping his heavy eyelids from dropping.

"Yeah, thanks," the SEAL mumbles sleepily and inhales deeply. "Get some sleep too," he adds with a soft smile, even though he does not bother to open his eyes again.

"Roger that," Danny agrees and pats his partner's shoulder one last time. "We'll be back tomorrow."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

At 9 o'clock the next morning, Danny enters his partner's hospital room again. He tries to be quiet in case Steve is still sleeping but of course the _SEAL-senses _are already on high alert.

"Good morning, sunshine," Danny grins when Steve turns his head on the pillow and smiles at him.

"Morning," the taller man answers and yawns. He runs a hand through his disheveled dark hair and fumbles for the remote control to rise the headrest of his bed into a more upright position. "Did you come alone?"

Dumping a brown paper bag on the bedside table, Danny shakes his head. "No, Lou is looking for a parking spot right now. Seems like Friday is a busy day here. And Chin and Kono are on their way. They had an early meeting at Pearl."

At that, Steve perks up. "With the Navy? About what? The case?"

Danny rolls his eyes. "Would you calm down, please? I'm going to tell you. Relax," he huffs out and drops down in the chair he pulled up next to the bed. "So, where was I? Oh yeah; they met with Commander Brix. Apparently, Kevin Lieberman was found last night in Michigan. After a few hours of interrogation, he admitted that he has pulled some strings to get his documents filled out incorrectly. He also confessed that he was the one who got rid of Jimmy Reynolds the night he disappeared. He was on the payroll of the human trafficking ring while working with the FBI. They also found the missing documents. The moron kept them all those years."

Steve runs a hand down his face. "Wow," he sighs and shifts on the mattress. "Looks like the case is closed then."

Danny nods. "Looks that way," he agrees. "And Kono and Chin managed to get it done without your help. See; a high quality team!"

This time, it is Steve's turn to roll his eyes. "I hear you, okay. I got it."

"Good," Danny smirks and leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

They fall silent for a moment before Steve looks past Danny and nods to the brown paper bag sitting on the table, "What's in there?"

"Oh, that's a special surprise," Danny grins and grabs the bag to give it to his partner. "Kelly felt so bad for giving us food poisoning, she baked her special coconut cookies as an apology."

Grimacing, Steve shoves the bag back into his partner's hands. "Yeah, no, thanks. I think I'm gonna pass. I still got enough from her last _gift_."

Chuckling, Danny tosses the bag back on the bedside table. "You're probably right."

Looking at each other, they both begin to laugh.

**The End**


End file.
